


Trust Like the Edge of a Knife

by Llama1412



Series: Siblings 'verse [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-07
Updated: 2010-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23484784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: At that moment, Uther realized just how much his son trusted his manservant.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Siblings 'verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689595
Comments: 5
Kudos: 83





	Trust Like the Edge of a Knife

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Livejournal in 2010. Posted unedited.

His son did not trust easily. That was good, of course. A strong king could not allow himself to be swayed by the influences of others on a whim. It was with this warning that Uther had gifted him his first knife. It was a modest blade, elegant, but not gaudy; plain, but handy. It was small, a poignard dagger meant for work in close quarters. It could be his son's only defense should he trust the wrong person too easily.

Arthur adored the knife. He attended to it himself, sharpening, cleaning, polishing, all the while jealously guarding this gift bestowed by his father. Uther was pleased by this. The knife was modest, yes, but it had still been expensive, an import from the continent that had been crafted specifically to Uther's wishes. So yes, Uther was glad that Arthur prized his knife.

He wasn't so glad when this lead to one of the biggest fights ever seen between his ward and his son. The knife hadn't been drawn at all during the fight - if it had, Uther would've taken it away then and there. The knife was meant to defend, not to be wielded against his family - but Morgana had always been fascinated by the rougher elements in life: tournaments, knights, all of that. From what Uther could discern, she'd just wanted to see the knife, having glimpsed it once when Arthur was cleaning it. To be fair, Uther knew that the last time Arthur had lent something to Morgana, he hadn't gotten it back. Still, it wasn't an excuse for the brawl that followed, miniature bodies tangled and thrashing with bloody fists amongst shouts of "it's _mine_ " and "selfish arse". It had taken five guards to separate the children, vicious and determined as they were, but eventually they calmed and Uther mollified Morgana by purchasing her her own ornate knife. Admittedly, it was fairly useless as a knife, meant more for decorating the hearths of fat nobles with nothing else to do, but she loved it all the same and what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. He didn't want her actually fighting with a knife, after all.

At any rate, it was a solid fact in Uther's life that Arthur loved his knife and cared for it dedicatedly for many years. He'd had his clothes adjusted to accommodate a special slot for his dagger, a hidden compartment so to speak inside his right boot and up his left sleeve. Even his bed had a specialized sheath built in for the blade (more than one assassin had managed to sneak into Arthur's room by posing as a chambermaid). Almost no one knew about the knife's existence or its hiding places, those that came into contact with it not living to tell the tale.

So it was with a large amount of surprise that he walked into Arthur's chambers one day and found the boy manservant plopped on the floor, polishing the very same blade that Arthur never told anyone about. Arthur was sitting at the table, his leg splayed out loosely, nearly touching the boy's shoulder as he worked. The prince was working on paperwork, his hand cramping around the goose feather quill, but he paused every so often as Uther watched, just inside the doorway (he knew how to open doors quietly and therefore went undetected), to smile gently at the boy's forehead bent over the dagger as he worked it to a proper shine. At that moment, Uther realized just how much his son trusted his manservant, letting him in on a secret that had been so closely guarded.

From then on, he made a point to watch the boy, ensuring that that trust had not been incorrectly bestowed. And when he slept at night, it was with the knowledge that his son was protected by a man named Merlin, a name he would remember as he had no doubt it would one day wind up in the history books next to his son's.


End file.
